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The Sophists

#1
I am going to die soon. The cliffs are getting closer. They have been since the beginning. Erosion is a powerful force. Shorter creatures rarely appreciate the small changes.

My position is precarious. It is a long fall. I have known this was coming for half of my life. The first half I was caught up in the stars. Fascinating things. The very embodiment of small changes. Tiny particles, built up, and then collapsed on themselves.

I have a solid base. Some of the others were too unstable. The ones exposed to the waves especially. One was eroded away before it understood the process of erosion.

Some of the others will regret my passing. My fragments will take some time to achieve my level of awareness. Communication. That is what the shorter species call it. We do not sense. Communication takes a different meaning for us. It is a sense of knowing that others are aware of your existence. The loneliness is gone in that moment of clarity. The older ones can pinpoint those moments precisely.

Loneliness is not powerful to us. For our first portions we know that we are alone. It is late for most when we know that we are wrong, that there are others. Some never realize that there are others. They are their own universe.

Another species lives on our planet now. They are very short. They have many senses, poor creatures. They do not know us. They never will. Some of them will begin to understand, but they will end quickly. None of them will witness my fall. The loud crack as the limestone cliff finally gives way under my immense weight. The whoosh as the atmosphere goes by me. Then there will be two. There will be other pieces, but they will be too small. They will not know.

The others have said goodbye. We do not communicate. It is a simple acknowledgement that they know of me. They know that I know of them. Both parties know.

The next wave will do it. I am falling now. This is my last thought.

…Awake. I am awake. I am? I? What is I? What is what? I am. What is “am?” I am awake? What does it mean to be awake? Have I ever not been “awake?”
…Alive. I am alive…
They shall call me, Draglide! The thread killer!

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